Truth From Fiction
by atlas aire
Summary: Time with the X-Men showed the Brotherhood that they were very different from each other. Training with S.H.I.E.L.D. proved that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Rating: T-M


**Disclaimer: **X-Men: Evolution and any other Marvel characters mention/included in this fic belong to their respective owners. Which isn't me. I'm not making money from this fic. I'm not making money at all at this current juncture.

**Notes:** This is another serious!fic. I'm kinda writing this to get rid of my angst and to explore my favorite characters. So yes, taking liberties. Any type of response to this fic would be appreciated. Also, there will be a lot of references to other science-fictiony things (like um, Star Trek) and plays and what not. Because classy folks like talking about aliens. Lol, ignore that last bit.

**Warnings **(in this chap)**:** LOTS of subtext (if you squint), swearing

* * *

**Truth From Fiction**

_Olive Branch_

Wanda sometimes thought that if she asked nicely, her father and Pietro would tell her everything that she wasn't able to find on her own. She would learn how to do small things that Pietro could do like making breakfast. She could have her father's ability to convey over fifty emotions in one single glare. She could speak openly, without having people look at her in pity or fear. But she knew that she was hoping for too much, both in herself and in her family.

So Wanda settled for isolation. No, she didn't lock herself in her room for days, like Lance continuously teased. She did go outside. She even went to over crowded places. But Wanda opted to keep herself from communicating with those people. Not that she didn't want to join those smiling people (even the brooding ones in the corners). She did. But she didn't feel like she deserved that type of contact.

She didn't feel like she ever will.

Logically, she knew that she was being absurd. But that did not stop her from feeling that way. In her mind, she must have done something so horrific (in a past, present, or future life) that prompted the universe to make her repent now. And whenever she saw people around her conversing about mundane things, Wanda decided that she could accept that. To even be around the people she wasn't allowed to connect with, that was good enough for her.

She slipped at times. Sometimes she built small connections with people. Her brother for example. Her twin. It was hard not to want to be with him. In a way, he understood her thought process. Sometimes, Wanda believed that Pietro even believed the same of himself. So they would bond over simple things. Like the moments of quiet at night and early morning. Pietro didn't sleep and Wanda woke up too often. They would would just sit in silence and enjoy each others' company. Wanda wished she could have a conversation with him, but she could settle for this.

Occasionally, when Wanda let her thoughts run, she would convince herself that the only person that could free her from her self-imposed exile was her father. Those thoughts came so many times that she started to believe them true. Which is why Wanda was devastated when Magneto disappeared only a few days after Apocalypse's destruction. And then join the _X-Men_, of all people. It was as if he were saying that all the good she did wasn't enough. Not by his standards.

But if she knew what exactly that man wanted, Wanda would have done everything in her power to bring it to him.

Maybe, she wasn't even _worthy_ of trying to gain retribution.

_********_

Wanda, like her brother, was very good at reading people. Pietro's powers made it easier for him to see small second details since everything was slowed down for him. He knew how to use that to predict and manipulate a person's next action. Wanda used her knowledge to gain information. She could find a way to mimic their body movements and tone infliction to get them to calm down. Together, they made a team that should of made the X-Men envious.

But since Magneto was a new instructor, Wanda knew that all that envy went right out the window. She knew that in his eyes, they could do so much better.

But all of this knowledge didn't explain why the entire Brotherhood were here, in Professor Xavier's office.

The Professor sat right in front of them at his desk. His hands were clasped together and he was resting his chin on them. The calm, serene look on that man's face both made Wanda relax and up her guard. Those other two X-kids, Jean and Scott stood on one side of Xavier while the white haired woman – Ororo – stood on the other. Wanda noted how calm the all looked. Apparently, they have discussed the purpose of this meeting beforehand.

Wanda and John were the only one who chose to sit at a chair. She could feel her brother's hand on her shoulder as he stood on her right and though he wasn't touching her, Wanda could feel Toad's body heat at her left foot. Fred sat on the floor at the right of her while John sat on a chair next to him. Lance was the only one who kept himself from both groups, choosing to lean against a wall by the door, arms crossed and scowling.

Were they waiting for Magneto to walk through the door? Or perhaps they were waiting for one of them to speak? Which wouldn't make sense – they invited the Brotherhood here. John cleared his throat.

"Look," he started, "I'm all for starin' contests and all but I don' think you guys are the type to stay quiet for long periods of time."

Wanda saw the upward infliction of the Professor's face when he gave a pointed look at Scott. She relaxed a bit more.

"Indeed we have called you here for a reason," the Professor answered, "we are just waiting for two more people."

"Y'know," Wanda heard Pietro say impatiently from behind her, "you can just tell us what's goin' on now. I didn't really come over here to _wait._"

"Of course not," Xavier agreed.

There was a moment of silence as the Professor collected his thoughts. Wanda watched as Jean glanced outside the huge window behind her. Maybe she was looking at whoever they were waiting for.

"There has been," Xavier started, "a increase in anti-mutant happenings."

Wanda frowned. Of course there would be. Genocide couldn't keep people from being condemned, why would saving the world change that. The hand on her shoulder clenched just a fraction.

"A few unnamed groups are starting to emerge," he continued, "their actions vary from riots to attacks on mutants. There have been rumors that some of these affiliations have been working with some political figures."

He paused, as if he didn't know how to continue. Ororo continued for him.

"There have been rumors of a new sentinel program starting up. And more of a mutant registration act."

Wanda's eyebrows knotted when she saw the conflicted look on Scott and Jean's faces. There have been more than just rumors, she was sure of it.

"Don't mean to sound rude," Toad cut in, "but what does that have to do with us?"

Wanda heard noises behind her and turned to look. Instantly, what she hoped was a cool resolve, vanished. Her father and the short Canadian man entered. The smooth, cool voice of her father was the only thing Wanda could register.

"It means that we require your assistance."

_********_

Wanda wanted to say yes. Joining the X-Men would only be temporary. They would be helping their people. They would be living in a place that was better than their decaying boarding house. She would be able to spend more time with her father. It was logical. Completely logical.

Of course her moronic brother would have to be the loudest dissenting opinion.

"No!"

"Uh-uh, yo."

And of course, these moronic boys would have to agree with him.

"I dunno," came John's voice, "I think we should join up."

"For how long," Lance said, "a month, a year? I can't do that. This place is too stuffy for me to be living here."

"Of course _you_ would know," Fred said in an undertone. Lance gave Fred a dirty look in turn.

"Wanda, why don't you decide," came Pietro. All the men looked at her then.

Wanda didn't quite panic. Her breathing and heart rate did increase. But Wanda couldn't call that panic. Wanda looked down when she realized that she was just nervous. Ha. _Just_ nervous.

"I..."

She closed her mouth then, her eyebrows knotting. She should just say what they wanted to hear. No. John was adaptable, she knew he would get over it. But...

But...

She looked at her brother for help. Assistance came in the form of Lance.

"Whatever you decide," he said, "we'll totally go with it."

She looked at Lance, hoping he wouldn't regret the lie he just told her.

"I think we should stay."

_********_

When night came, Wanda found herself in the dining area staring out the window. Yes, they went with her decision. But she could just feel the disappointment from them. If Magneto had taught her anything, it was to never take back whatever you did.

"_You were certain _then_ when you did the action_," she could hear his voice in her head, "_let them believe you are certain _now."

It was funny how she remembered all the lessons taught to her, but she didn't know how they were taught to her.

Outside the window, Wanda could see the trees boarding the mansion. The lack of sunlight only made their silhouettes visible. What she recognized as the animals of those woods passed by occasionally. Wanda could see a flock of birds. One of them was straggling behind, only to land somewhere in the trees. If she squinted hard enough, she could see a man on a motorcycle driving away.

"There you are." His voice was soft, gentle. Not like the voice Pietro used regularly.

"I wasn't hiding," she whispered, "I wanted to explore."

Her toes curled a bit, almost disappearing in the black pants she was wearing.

"I know," he replied, as he made his way to sit in front of her on the windowsill.

Not for the first time, Wanda noted how different her brother's eyes were from his. Without his air of superiority and mischief, Pietro's eyes were startling clear, certain. Knowing.

He stared at her and she turned to stare out the window. Wanda knew he could wait on her all night if he had to. She sighed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said yes."

"Why did you?"

None of the reasons she used to convince herself before sounded right. Not now. She shrugged.

His look was considering now.

"I want to help," she said suddenly.

_I want help._

He leaned back, away from her and stared out from his side of the window.

"I do too," he replied after a moment.

They sat there in silence, not thinking of anything. Just enjoying each others company.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him after a moment.

As expected, Pietro gave her a bewildered look. He frowned then, his eyes taking on a guilty tone before he was suddenly smiling at her. He leaned forward and laid a hand on her with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on," he said, "let's go to sleep."

_********_

A week passed and Wanda found herself settled into a routine. Wake up. Shower. Sneak to get food. Sleep. Wake up to get news from Pietro. Repeat.

Wanda came in early to the kitchen and grabbed an orange and a bottle of water. All of the instructors at the institute informed them that all the students were okay with the Brotherhood residing here. They had talked long about this apparently.

But Wanda wasn't going to hold her breath. Even if they were okay with them, she wasn't okay with them. She knew that her thought process wasn't sound concerning this matter. She turned to leave when she found that she wasn't alone.

"Don't mind me, dear," came the deep voice of the doctor (?). He gave her a smile and headed for the refrigerator, "I'm just trying to get breakfast before the traffic settles in."

Wanda watched as the blue furred man walked on all fours, reminiscent of an ape, but with the fluid grace of any cat. She noted the amusement in those intelligent eyes. They were somewhat protected by glasses. And she couldn't stop herself from returning a smile that was given to her.

"Wanda Maximoff, correct," he asked her lightly. She nodded in response.

"I'm Henry McCoy," he introduced herself. He didn't hold out a hand to Wanda's relief. He simply gave her a nod that conveyed any and all pleasantries.

"What should I call you," she asked. At his curious expression she clarified, "I remember someone mentioning you being a doctor."

"Ah. Yes. Well," he answered, "that is completely up to you."

He gave her a shrug, "some people call me Hank, others call me Mr. McCoy. Some have even called me Bones from time to time."

She nodded, her eyes drifting to the opening as she heard some voices. She tried to keep herself calm.

"It's only fair that I give you the same right," Wanda told him.

He glanced at the entryway as well then turn his gaze to her.

"Allow me to extend an olive branch, Wanda."

She raised an eyebrow in question, the term strangely foreign to her ears.

"I am working on a few things down in my lab," he elaborated, "I could always use help."

When Wanda didn't respond, he added:

"It will help you become more familiar to this... environment."

Oh.

Olive branch.

Wanda nodded, and allowed McCoy to lead her down the corridors of the mansion. She frowned when she realized she didn't know how to get back. She only knew how to get to her room, her brother's, the Professor's office and the kitchen. She didn't even know where the front door was.

"What are you working on?" She asked as they made it into the med-lab.

"I'm trying to find a more efficient way to administer certain medications to a variety of mutants," McCoy answered, "there are a lot of mutants who have scales, or skin too tough to penetrate with a regular needle."

She stood there awkwardly with her fruit and water in hand as McCoy went to put on his lap coat. Absently, she wondered when he had the time to finish his small breakfast.

"With help of some acquaintances of mine," he continued, "I did manage to find a way to administer some medication to people with more delicate skin. It's quick and free of pain."

He went over to his desk and pulled out a medium sized metal box, at the same time gesturing for her to come over. Quietly, she went over to the good doctor. Sensing her apprehension, McCoy gave her a reassuring grin. She didn't want to admit that it was quite effective.

McCoy opened the box and inside she found two jet injectors. One bigger than the other. Curiosity started to override everything else when she asked for an explanation.

"One is a prototype," he said, gesturing to the bigger of the two, "the other one is in proper working order."

He allowed her to pick the bigger one. Wanda expected the injector to be heavy with its bulky design, but it was light in her hands. With inspecting eyes, she saw that it wasn't made out of any metal, or any type of glass.

"Plastic?" She shot him an inquiring look. He gave her another grin.

"Something like that."

They spent what Wanda estimated was a few hours in that lap, looking over designs and notes of medications and medical tools. Gradually, Wanda's initial worry of making the wrong decision dissipated.

Possibly, this was the universe's way of letting her seek redemption.

When they were finished, McCoy lead her to the main dining area.

"Now I trust I will see you this evening with the other students," his voice held no treats or requests. It was simply him asking.

Refreshing.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Well, if not," he said lightly, "I do hope I will see you tomorrow, so that we may continue our research.

_Our_ research.

Wanda smiled, "Okay."

When she saw McCoy walk out, she turned to leave the other way. Ororo was standing in the entryway, easy smile on her face as she observed Wanda.

Wanda held back the impulse to frown.

"I do hope you eat with us," she told Wanda. Her voice held out a gentle request. Like one a person would get from a mother.

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and walked past her, heading for her room.

_********_

Wanda had every intention to avoid going down there. She knew that Lance was down there at the moment with Fred and Toad, and they have been every evening since they've been here. She didn't quite know where John snuck off to. But Wanda couldn't bring herself to go down herself. She laid on her stomach and stared blankly at the wall. Before, she didn't mind.

But now she hoped that she wasn't looking rude to them.

When did that happen?

The sudden gust of wind in a room with no open windows informed Wanda that her brother was here. She could feel the weight of the bed shift.

"Brought chips," she could hear Pietro say from behind her, "you can go in an hour to get left overs. Unless you want me to bring something."

She made a noise of acknowledgment, turning to smile at her brother. He blinked, before handing her the bag of chips.

"Your day," she asked, sitting up and scooting up to the headboard. Pietro did the same a fraction faster than she did.

"I was talking to the professor and them about our stay here."

"Yeah?"

"Wanted to make sure that we were free to leave when ever we wanted to."

"Are we?"

"We are," Pietro nodded.

Wanda opened the bag and popped a chip in her mouth, laying the bag upright in between them. Pietro took a handful but spoke before eating.

"We're also not wearing those stupid uniforms of theirs," he said, "since we're technically not part of their 'group'. We do have to do their training thing though."

"Training?"

"Yeah, that bald guy either wants to know what we can do, and then 'better ourselves.'" Pietro rolled his eyes. Wanda's eyes twinkled in mirth.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah," he answered, popping a chip in his mouth. His whole body seemed subtly pull away from her. Wanda waited for him to speak.

"Magneto wants to speak to us tomorrow."


End file.
